Frozen Heart
by Apocalyxtic98
Summary: AU. After Soul Society loses to Aizen, the Shinigami find their roles with Hollows reversed. Los Noches is the new law. Rukia finds herself alone, fighting for her life against those who used to be her comrades. All she wants is for things to be the way they used to be, but when Ichigo comes back into the picture, Rukia's not sure he'll ever be the same, let alone everything else..
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! A New Bleach Story! Hope you guys like it! :)**

**Chapter 1 **

**Lonely Duet:** Why Do You Sing?

He slipped through the crowd, a shadow among a mob of screaming, howling animals. Even though the fighting was supposed to be contained inside the ring, that didn't prevent some from starting brawls of their own. Almost always, it was lower-level, still masked Hollows that started the brawls. Sometimes it was the more sophisticated Arrancar, just itching to demonstrate their superior Sonido and fighting techniques. Whatever the case was, it was always the Espada that finished it. "Keeping The Peace At Shinigami Fight Clubs" wasn't technically in the Espada job description, but it was one of those unmentioned duties that Aizen still expected them to fulfill. Irritating, menial, and tiring, but not exceptionally difficult. Sometimes, Ichigo even enjoyed it.

Sometimes being a night like tonight. Whether it was the unusually dense crowd, (both in numbers and thickness of skull), or maybe the result of three nights in a row without anything to eat, Ichigo was a little on-edge. The dense crowd, compromised of equally dense Hollows, didn't sense this and took no notice of the crisp white Espada uniform or sealed Zanpakuto. As someone or something stepped on his foot, Ichigo growled, hands twitching and reaching for his sword. The minute his fingers brushed its cool metal guard some of the tenseness left his shoulders, even as the urge to kill grew.

He could draw his Zanpakuto right now, cut down a few Hollows, and call it a night. Aizen wouldn't question his decision, and neither Tousen or Gin cared enough to even bother with the matter. The quiet sheen of sharpened, polished metal against its hilt sent a shiver down his spine. Finally, he'd found a release for all that pent up stress. Even as Ichigo drew his sword, simultaneously bringing his reiatsu level to a new high, none of the dumb Hollows around him even gave so much of a glance to the Espada. Complete wastes of air, souls, and space. It was too easy to just—

"Sheathe your sword, Kurosaki Ichigo." The flat, empty voice was accompanied by a cold, pale hand on top of Ichigo's preventing him from fully unsheathing his Zanpakuto. Even more obvious to Ichigo, although the rest of the Hollows were completely oblivious, was the crushing reiatsu the new arrival exuded.

Damn that Ulquiorra.

Tension and stress returned as the sword slid back into its scabbard. The pale hand removed itself from Ichigo's, and Ichigo turned away from the fourth Espada, his mouth a thin, pressed line as he pretended to watch a fight he couldn't see. He didn't even know who was fighting. "Why the hell do you care, anyways?" Ichigo muttered, still not looking at Ulquiorra.

"Aizen-sama's orders were to only kill when necessary." The flat monotone voice strongly resembled a broken record.

Ichigo snorted. "How do you know it's not necessary?"

"It does not take someone of great intelligence to recognize that killing any of the trash her is not necessary." Even as Ulquiorra made it clear that none of the Hollows were approved for the removal-by-Ichigo-treatment, his tone held nothing but disgust, making it clear that he had no more love for the low-lives than Ichigo did. Determining that Ichigo wasn't about to stray from orders, the 4th Espada silently slipped through the crowd, and when Ichigo turned around again, Ulquiorra was gone, seamlessly disappearing.

Ichigo spit on the floor, cursing Ulquiorra for his irritatingly aloof demeanor. Glancing at the fight, he noticed the huge discrepancy in size between the two opponents. His next glance was at the large screen that hung above the ring, displaying the stats of each Shinigami and their odds of winning along with a poorly taken headshot. One of the faces caught his attention. A pale, fragile-looking girl with dark, cropped hair and determined, but scared violet eyes. Her stats scrolled across the board, regrettably weak.

**Kuchiki "Raven" Rukia**

** Race: Shinigami**

** Gender: Female**

** Height: 4'8 ½**

** Weight: 73 lbs**

** Zanpakuto: Sode no Shirayuki**

Ichigo laughed to himself. "Miss Raven, huh?" he thought aloud. Glancing up at the board again, he raised his eyebrows.

**Odds: 1-72**

Looking at Raven's opponent's odds, Ichigo cringed. It looked like this was going to be the last time Raven flied.

The crowd suddenly erupted, surging towards the center of the room and towards the roped-off ring. Scales, tails, and their owners rushed past Ichigo in their quest to see the sudden change in the fight. Gritting his teeth as he was shoved to the left, then the right, by a mass of Hollows with less power than an eighth of his own, Ichigo took a step forward, brown eyes searching the ring with a new intensity.

As much as he was sick of the Hollows that flooded the Shinigami fights, the fights themselves were a different matter. Not only did they provide a relatively engaging source of entertainment, they were also a good place to escape Aizen's constant scrutiny and surveillance for a couple hours. Even though the crumbling building where the fights took place, like the rest of Las Noches and most of Hueco Mundo, was under Aizen's view, the dense, swarming crowd was a good cover for an Espada to take a few breathers and release a little stress.

And then there was the betting. The same geniuses who had come up with the idea of forcing Shinigami into battles against each other for Hollow entertainment had also conceived the brain-child of soul-based betting. Winning a Shinigami bet was a quick and easy way to acquire a glut of souls, and was less risky than "hunting" in Hueco Mundo. Even though Arrancar didn't need the constant supply of souls that masked Hollows did, souls were still a delicious pleasure and a worthwhile incentive to even participate in the betting.

Enough of an incentive for Ichigo himself, along with several other Espada, to have partaken in the betting more than once. Grimmjow had tried it twice, losing his entire bets both times. After that, he hadn't been back to the betting table, even though he attended the fights on a regular basis just for the violence. Szayel had made an appearance once, apparently to examine a few Shinigami and analyze something-or-other, but he hadn't betted, or even stayed long enough to see the victor. Ulquiorra came to the fights often enough, but served only as a moderator and peace-keeper. Ichigo had betted several times, winning big the first, losing the second, and winning each time after that, even if they were smaller victories.

The past two times he had attended the Shinigami fights, however, he had been more like Ulquiorra. Not by choice, but by force. Lately Aizen had been rather put out with him, and he was in danger of falling out of both Aizen's favor and his rank as the 7th Espada. Ichigo scowled. It was bad enough that he had to stand a ranking as low as 7, below Ulquiorra, Nnoitra, _and_ Grimmjow. Anything lower, and he wouldn't be able to show his face in Hueco Mundo.

"I told you not to look down on me. I warned you not to underestimate me. Why is it that nobody ever listens?" Her voice rang throughout the decrepit building, which had fallen silent, a truly rare occurrence. Even more rare that the building was so deadly silent, the steady drip of the blood of her opponent dripping off her sword was audible.

Ichigo frowned, stumbling forward and pushing silent, stunned beasts out of his way. Parting the crowd was harder than walking through six feet of mud. Ignoring several thrashing tails and enraged snarls, Ichigo finally reached the front of the crowd, and the edge of the ring. His brown eyes skipped over the raven-haired girl at first, immediately darting to the burly Shinigami who now lay in a pool of his own blood that was slowly spreading. His reiatsu hadn't completely disappeared, but judging from his heavy breathing and pained tremors, he was done.

Strangely surprised and mildly impressed, Ichigo's eyes drifted back towards the female Shinigami. She was small, short, and petite, looking even smaller than Ichigo would've imagined from seeing her stats. Raven's hair was tangled and mussed up, some strands caught in her mouth. Violet eyes sparked against the yellow eyes of the Hollow spectators. In her hands, which shook slightly, she held a pure white sword, its blade and ribbon stained red with victory.

"Rukia." The name slipped from his tongue before he even realized he said it. He shouldn't have said that. Her name shouldn't feel so right in his mouth. He shouldn't be secretly relieved that Rukia-Raven had overcome her odds. He shouldn't be staring at her, feeling like he was missing something. And he definitely shouldn't be consumed with the desire to run, run fast and far so she wouldn't see him.

She frowned, and her eyes clouded over with confusion.

Crap. She had heard him.

Rukia searched the crowd, looking for the Hollow that actually knew her name and took the time to say it. Ichigo took a hasty step back, trying to blend in with the animal crowd again, but it was too late. She spotted him. She saw him. How was he supposed to explain to her why an Espada had bothered to call her name?

The shock on her face was physical. He could feel it, even though he was ten feet away from her. Shock, hurt, confusion, betrayal, anger, despair, relief…how could a stranger feel so many different emotions just at seeing his face? Something inside Ichigo fluttered, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. He had just fallen into a hole, with no shovel and no ladder. Why did Rukia have that ridiculously pleased but extremely confused expression? Why was she walking over towards him like she knew him?

She was just a Shinigami that was stronger than she looked. He just happened to feel like he had met her before. Maybe he had heard about her in a passing conversation. Maybe she had been mentioned in one of those unbearably long and boring meetings Aizen held. Maybe it was just dumb luck.

Apparently Rukia didn't think so. She was walking over to him expecting some sort of reunion. Ichigo didn't want her to do that. Rukia was staring at him as if she knew him. Ichigo didn't want her to do that. Rukia's eyes held questions, so many questions that she wanted answered. Ichigo didn't want to do that, either.

And he didn't have to. He didn't know her. Why did he care? Why was he just standing here, acting dumb? He was Ichigo. He belonged to nobody, and didn't owe anybody anything. He didn't have to answer any of Rukia-the-shinigami-that-he-just-met's questions. He didn't even have to stay long enough for her to say his name again.

"Ichigo!"

He didn't have to stay long enough for her to say his name again, but he did. He was going to leave in three, two, one…

Turning away, Ichigo ignored Rukia's shouts. She shouted again, hurt and panic filling her throat and slipping off her tongue with his name. He ignored her. He didn't know her. She thought she knew him. But that was impossible. Maybe it was just some guy she was thinking of that looked like him…that had the same name. Four steps, five steps, six steps. It didn't really matter whether she did know him or not. He didn't know her, so he could walk away. Seven steps, eight steps, nine, ten. He had no reason to even give her another thought. Rukia was so short, and her lack of height combined with those silly drawings made it impossible for him to take her seriously.

Drawings? Silly, bad drawings. Where was this coming from? He didn't know the damn Shinigami! Why was his brain making up random information about a girl he didn't know? And why was the girl-he-didn't-know's brain making up information about him?

"Ichi—" Rukia called his name again, louder than before. It started out as a shout but ended as a terrible, choked scream as she was unable to finish the last syllable. A shiver running down his back and a terrible sense of dread seeping through his veins, Ichigo stopped walking. He should keep going. He didn't know her. He didn't care what happened to her.

Then why was he turning around? Why was he shoving past Hollows, sprinting towards the ring? Why was the sight of her blood making his head dizzy and his heart pound painfully? It didn't make any sense.

Neither did the way he looked at the previously fallen Shinigami. He had been defeated by Rukia, left for dead, only to summon up enough energy and gall to strike Rukia when she was vulnerable. The stocky Shinigami disappeared briefly from Ichigo's sight as he used Shunpo, reappearing behind Rukia and driving his scratched, dented blade through Rukia's chest.

The mass of Hollows flew into a fury. What a shocking turn-around! An amazing fight! A great twist-ending! Their applause and cheers echoed through the claustrophobic building, ringing in Ichigo's ears.

Just like the way Rukia's name had slipped out, a low moan escaped from his lips. For the second time that night, Ichigo found himself grasping the handle of his sword and pulling it out of its sheath. Except this time, he managed to finish the action without any interruptions or orders to stop. Only half aware of what he was doing, the 7th Espada ran towards the ring, placing one hand on the barrier and launching himself over it, automatically positioning himself between Rukia and the stocky Shinigami who had cowardly run her through.

Staring at the gutless Shinigami with hate, slight reassurance found its way to Ichigo in the form of Rukia's shallow, but steady breaths. The girl, even though he barely knew her, was still alive, and that was a good thing.

"What the hell are you doing, Espada scum?" the Shinigami spat, hands tightening around the hilt of his unattractive Zanpakuto.

Ichigo looked over the Shinigami once, taking in his trembling knees, slightly unfocused eyes, and the rather disproportionate amount of blood on his shihakusho and the ground compared to the amount still within the guy's body. Sighing slightly and closing his eyes, he slid his Zanpakuto back into its sheath, turning away from the near-dead man and back towards Rukia.

"Hey!" the burly Shinigami shouted, "I asked you what you're doing!"

Ichigo ignored him, and the stares from the rest of the Hollows surrounding the ring, choosing to pick up Rukia instead, unceremoniously draping her over his shoulder.

"You son of a bitch, I asked you what the hell you're doing!" Yelling, the blood-covered Shinigami charged towards Ichigo, both hands wrapped around the hilt of his sword as he prepared to attack.

Finally losing it, Ichigo scowled before Sonido-ing behind the Shinigami's back, effortlessly dodging the clumsy attack and countering with an attack of his own—a hand through the spleen, along with a few broken ribs and damage to some other vital organs. Arching his back, the Shinigami choked, falling to his knees as Ichigo removed his hand.

"Just because you asked doesn't mean you'll get an answer. If I wanted to give you an answer, I'd give you the damn answer the first time you asked."

The Hollow crowd had long since fallen silent, but alarmed whispers rippled through it as Ichigo used Sonido again, exiting the fighting ring and starting to walk towards the door. The crowd parted much easier this time, and every Hollow noticed the ginger's crisp white uniform and intimidatingly high reiatsu. Blood slipped off his fingers, colliding with the dirty cement. Pleased with the room he finally had to walk, Ichigo smirked, shifting Rukia a bit.

The smirk slowly slid into a frown as the distorted sound of Sonido echoed three times through the decaying building. Any noise that had been going around before the arrival of three new Espada disappeared. Standing in front of Ichigo, and blocking the exit was Grimmjow, along with Ulquiorra and Nnoitra. Knots twisted inside Ichigo at the sight of Grimmjow's condescending, cocky grin. Ulquiorra stood as straight-faced as always, and Nnoitra seemed to be at an impossible point between extremely bored and extremely interested.

"Oi, Kurosaki, Aizen wants to see you."

Ichigo shrugged, despite Rukia's presence on his shoulder. "So?" he asked, wiping his hand on his clothes, staining the white garment with the Shinigami's blood. "Does that really require three Espada?" Through gritted teeth, he added, "All of which are higher ranking than myself?"

Grimmjow's grin widened at Ichigo's addition. "I don't think so," the 6th Espada drawled. "If it was up to me, I would've just come myself. That's all it takes to control your wimpy ass, anyways." Blue eyes flashing, Grimmjow continued. "But Aizen said for all three of us to come, so I guess he's worried Ulquiorra's not strong enough to handle the job."

"Or he was worried that someone of such low intelligence like yourself would be unable to accomplish the simple task he gave you." Ulquiorra didn't look at Grimmjow even as he spoke to him, choosing instead to stare at Ichigo with a slightly perturbed expression.

Grimmjow's only reply was a malevolent growl.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, leave the Shinigami here and come peacefully."

Ichigo grinned. "How about I bring the Shinigami with me and come semi-peacefully?" The grin slipped off Ichigo's face as Rukia moaned a bit, clutching her wound, but he still stared at the three Espada defiantly.

Ulquiorra stared at Rukia with indecision. Finally, Nnoitra spoke up, pushing Ulquiorra from behind. "Just let him have the girl, Ulquiorra. I'm tired of waiting around."

Ulquiorra nodded reluctantly, turning away from Ichigo. "Fine," he said tonelessly. "Bring the trash with you."

Ichigo glared at Nnoitra, not sure if the Espada truly didn't care, or if he had some ulterior motive to assisting Ichigo. Frowning, Ichigo followed the 4th, 5th, and 6th Espada as they disappeared, their destination Los Noches.

**Reviews always appreciated. :)**

**Bleach (c) Tite Kubo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Law's Ice Fist:**Why So Cold?

Ichigo's footsteps echoed around the spacious room, only increasing the tension that was already there. The only one who seemed relaxed was Aizen, resting his chin on his hand. Well, Rukia seemed rather relaxed, too, still unconscious on Ichigo's shoulder. Ichigo cringed as something warm and wet slid down his back.

_I swear, if that's drool, I'll throw her right back in the fights, life-threatening injury or not._

Aizen arched an eyebrow as he realized what Ichigo had slung over his shoulder, but didn't say anything. Ichigo wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Standing uncomfortably, shifting his weight from foot to foot, he wasn't sure if the sudden weight on his shoulders was Rukia magically growing, or Aizen exerting a portion of his massive spiritual pressure on Ichigo's back.

Maybe both. Grimacing, Ichigo momentarily lifted Rukia off his shoulder, rolling it a bit before shifting her to his other shoulder. His left shoulder, now bearing the weight, groaned in protest, but his right shoulder, relieved of the weight, thanked him. Sighing, Ichigo debated whether just carrying Rukia in his arms would be easier.

"I see you brought a friend, Ichigo." The seemingly benign statement might have been friendly if it came out of anyone's mouth but Aizen's.

Ichigo frowned. This was where it counted. A good response would allow him to keep both Rukia and his status. An average response would allow him to keep his status, but Rukia probably wouldn't live much longer. A bad response would get Rukia killed, and him stripped of his title as the 7th Espada. A _really_ bad response would end with both him and Rukia dead.

"I wouldn't call her a friend," Ichigo called up, assuming a more casual position. "She's just some Shinigami I picked up out of the fights."

Aizen smiled humorlessly. "Just a Shinigami?" he repeated Ichigo's words. "Just a Shinigami that you rescued, and then carried all the way here, refusing to put her down?" Aizen's fingers drummed against the cold, stone arm of his throne. "That seems like a lot of trouble to go through for someone who's not a friend, don't you think, Ichigo?"

Ichigo shrugged, ignoring the tiny warning bells that went off in the back of his mind. "It's not like she's that heavy. See?" he asked, lifting Rukia off his shoulder with one arm and raising her several feet in the air. Sweating only a little bit, he gritted his teeth and held her up there.

Aizen closed his eyes, smiling as he massaged his temple. Opening his eyes, he shifted his position, letting his arm fall to his side. "I see. But you still haven't explained why you brought her here, or why you rescued her in the first place, Espada Number 7."

Ichigo grimaced. Aizen rarely used the Espada's rankings to address them, and when he did, it was never good. "I…thought she would be useful," Ichigo struggled for words, ending lamely.

"Is that so?"

Ichigo nodded in response.

"And what, exactly, did you imagine her to do?"

Ichigo's brown eyes swept over the cold, white room, looking for an answer. He couldn't say the truth, that would be either a bad answer or a _really_ bad answer. He didn't think Aizen would accept 'Janitor' as a legitimate reply, and he really didn't want to use some perverted excuse as to why he rescued Rukia. Ichigo's cheeks blazed red simply thinking about it. As he looked over the room, his eyes latched onto the door to his quarters, where Yuzu and Karin were staying.

Yuzu…Karin...

Ichigo almost grinned as he realized his answer. "I thought she would be a good babysitter for Yuzu and Karin," he said, looking up at Aizen and struggling to keep all guilt off his face.

Aizen interpreted Ichigo's ridiculously innocent expression as a cover for…other things. Staring down at the Espada, Aizen sighed. "I will allow it," he said, "but I hope that's truly the reason you want to keep her, Ichigo." Ichigo slowly started to nod, but Aizen had more to say. "And if it comes to my attention that there was a different reason you saved this Shinigami," Aizen waved vaguely at Rukia, "you will not go unpunished."

Ichigo grinned, turning away from the brown-eyed Shinigami. "Just what I'd expect."

As Ichigo walked, Rukia stirred a bit, but he didn't notice, too full of relief to pay attention to her minute movements. Squinting through heavy lids, Rukia could only make out one thing as her world was jolted up and down by Ichigo's footsteps. As unconsciousness claimed her once again, the image of Aizen's cruel smile was burned into Rukia's mind.

Rukia sat up, rubbing at her eyes and instinctively smoothing down her hair. The thick blanket that had been covering her before fell off her torso, resting patiently at her legs. Rukia shivered, pulling the blanket back up around her shoulders and sinking down into the couch. It was warmand soft, and smelled familiar, even if it wasn't a scent she had been around recently. Still, it was too familiar to just ignore.

Rukia snuggled under the blanket, staring up at the tall, stone ceiling with wide, velvet eyes. Silently, her gaze floated around the room, noticing the curious lack of furnishing. Even if the room seemed a bit empty, it wasn't lonely. Friendly sunlight streamed through a large open window, which revealed a cheery blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds. Eyes narrowing, Rukia started to notice the abundance of white sand and lack of green. Where was sh—?

"Rukia-chan! You're awake!"

Rukia jumped at the sudden voice, letting out a squeak—muffled by the warm blanket—as she tumbled off the couch, her body protesting as she made contact with the cold floor.

A small face peered at Rukia from the back of the couch, its large, brown eyes concerned. "Are you alright!? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!"

Another face appeared from behind the couch, partially obscured by inky black hair, but her amused charcoal eyes were still visible. "Then why'd you sneakbehind the couch so she couldn't see you?" Her flat tone contradicted both the amusement and kindness in her eyes.

Rukia frowned, looking at the two small, human faces carefully. After a moment, it clicked. "Yuzu?" Rukia asked, slowly, disbelief obvious in her tone. "Karin?"

Yuzu smiled brightly, energetically nodding. Karin shrugged in acknowledgement of Rukia. Yuzu's round face disappeared temporarily as she walked around the tall couch, only to reappear directly in front of Rukia. "Does it hurt anywhere, Rukia-chan?"

Rukia blinked at Yuzu's concerned question, lying dumbly on the floor. "Does it…hurt?" she repeated back to Yuzu, not understanding.

Yuzu smiled vaguely, kneeling down as her small, nimble hands unwrapped the blanket from Rukia. Rukia blinked again, only just now realizing she was almost entirely nude. "Does this hurt?" Yuzu prompted Rukia, applying slightly pressure with two fingers to Rukia's side.

Rukia absentmindedly shook her head, trying to connect the familiar-smelling blanket, the desolate landscape, and her injuries, with Yuzu and Karin. As Yuzu's fingers slid to Rukia's other side, skipping over the bandage on Rukia's stomach, Rukia spoke up. "Yuzu," she mumbled, staring down at the blonde girl.

Yuzu looked up immediately. "Does it hurt, Rukia-chan?"

Rukia shook her head. "No, not that." Glancing over her shoulder, looking out the window again, Rukia frowned. "Where are we, Yuzu?"

"Do you feel alright? How many fingers am I holding up?" Rukia was immediately assaulted by a barrage of Yuzu's questions.

"I'm fine," Rukia said briskly.

Karin spoke up then, from her place behind the couch. "Hueco Mundo," she said simply. "Las Noches."

"Las…Noches?" Rukia stumbled over the words.

Yuzu nodded, unwrapping the bandage around Rukia's stomach. The bandage clung to Rukia's skin, glued by dried blood. Gritting her teeth, Rukia struggled to remain silent. Despite Rukia's efforts, Yuzu still noticed and stopped tugging at the bandage, instead patting it down with a mildly worried look.

Secretly relieved, Rukia exhaled a bit, shoulders slumping as Yuzu motioned for Rukia to lie back down on the couch. Rukia obliged, bringing the warm blanket with her, but leaving it at her waist, not wanting to antagonize her wound any further. Staring down at the throbbing injury, Rukia tried to remember how it had happened.

A sword…she had been stabbed. But the last thing she could remember was defeating her opponent in the fight, and then…

Rukia bolted upright, causing Yuzu to jump. Ignoring both Yuzu's frantic questions about her well-being and the searing pain in her stomach, Rukia forced herself to think through everything and connect the pieces of the puzzle.

Her injuries, the landscape, the familiar scent, Yuzu and Karin…they all snapped together around a central, key piece. Him.

Rukia's eyes widened as he walked through the open door, hands hidden in the pockets of his white clothing, and his Zanpakuto, sealed for once, at his hips.

Despite the lightning speed at which her brain was working, her lips could only form one word. His name.

"Ichigo!?"

"Ichi-nii!"

"Onii-chan!"

Yuzu and Karin scrambled over to the new arrival, leaving Rukia sitting on the couch in shock. She watched in a mixture of relief and disbelief as Ichigo scooped Yuzu up, placing her on his shoulder and ruffled Karin's hair, walking in the room. Despite the oddness of the scene, Rukia couldn't help the small smile that came to her lips. Could Ichigo really be the same, even with a mask?

Rukia's smile disappeared as Ichigo suddenly stopped as he noticed Rukia for the first time. Uneasiness sparked in the air as they stared at each other, neither of them making a move. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Ichigo slowly pulled Yuzu off his shoulder, setting her gently on the ground. Taking the subtle hint, Karin towed Yuzu out of the room, and the twins disappeared through another door.

Ichigo watched them until the door clicked; his eyes glided over the room before resting on the couch, and Rukia. "You're awake?"

Rukia nodded, even though she knew it was a redundant question. The extreme, unexpected awkwardness of the situation prevented her from remembering her almost totally nude body. Ichigo ignored it, focusing on Rukia's face and the new life in her violet eyes. The last time he had seen them, they had been dulled with pain.

Rukia cleared her throat, struggling for words. Everything she thought of seemed stupid, or childish, or just wrong. "You joined the Espada?" was the brilliant response she finally selected.

Ichigo's reaction was much better than Rukia expected. As he snorted, the tension drained out of the room, and things seemed just a little more like they used to, that long time ago. "How'd you know?" Ichigo asked, brown eyes shining as he tugged at his white coat.

Rukia exhaled impatiently, glaring at him. "I was just starting a conversation, you fool. One of us had to, and it didn't seem like you were inclined to."

Ichigo waved a hand dismissively, walking over to the couch and slumping against the side of it. "Yeah, whatever you say." He quickly glanced at the door before looking back at Rukia. "Did Yuzu wrap up all your injuries?"

Rukia nodded mutely.

"Feeling better?"

Rukia nodded again.

Ichigo nodded, copying Rukia's actions, but the action seemed more thoughtful than an actual confirmation. "Good."

Silence fell between them again, and Rukia picked at the blanket, not looking at Ichigo. Silence was her friend; it allowed her to ask the questions she had on her mind, but could she summon up the courage to ask them?

"Ichigo, what happened?" The generic, vague question wasn't the best she could've asked, but Rukia didn't know any other way to phrase it. 'Ichigo, why did you leave?' wasn't right. 'Ichigo, why are you an Espada?' didn't address all the things she wanted to know. Too much had happened, and too much had passed between them for any small, specific question to be effective.

Ichigo stiffened, brown eyes blank as they surveyed the blue sky. "Stuff."

"You know that's not what I mean," Rukia persisted, leaning forward a bit. "Why am I here? Why are you working for Aizen? Why are Yuzu and Karin here? Where's everybody else? Why did you wait so long? How did…why did you…?" Rukia couldn't ask the last question, but that didn't stop her from trying.

_Ichigo, why are you wearing a mask? Why did you let…this happen?_

Ichigo stood up, back to Rukia. Running his hand through his hair, he exhaled. Turning back towards Rukia, he glanced at the door again, eyes flickering nervously. He sighed once, eyebrows turned up in an 'it's out of my hands' expression.

"Look...Rukia, right?"

Rukia nodded slowly, watching Ichigo carefully. She decided she didn't like the way he said her name. There was no familiarity or feeling of friendship in his tone. It was like he was speaking a stranger's name…

"It's a long story."

Rukia scoffed, staring at him in disbelief. "I have time, fool."

Ichigo grinned slightly, before opening his mouth and starting to explain.

_Once upon a time…_

_Muhahaha...backstory saved for the next chapter! XD_

_Thanks to **Scaehime-KingofKing's Daughter **for beta-ing and chuckles. :)_

_Reviews always appreciated. :D_

_Bleach (c) Tite Kubo_


	3. Chapter 3

**Dirty, Dark, Daunted: **Why Do You Run?

"It was dark, I remember. And cold. First thing I felt after waking up as an Arrancar was the stone-cold floor of Las Noches seeping through my skin," Ichigo glanced at Rukia hesitantly before continuing. "Aizen was there, along with the rest of the Espada. He said some stuff about joining his side and purpose or whatever before leaving. I was given the number 7 and shipped off to my own corner of Las Noches. Found Yuzu and Karin there, and then just sort of…lived," Ichigo concluded with an indefinite shrug, "until I found you. Then you started screaming my name all dramatic-like, and you almost died. Saved you, got Aizen to let you stay here, and that about leads us up to now."

Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest, a small breath indicating that he had finished. Rukia stared at him dubiously**,** face flushing in disappointment and frustration.

"That's it!?" **s**he demanded, crawling over her blanket in order to get closer to Ichigo. "That's all you remember? Don't you have any more detail?"

Ichigo avoided Rukia's eyes, patches of red beginning to bloom in his cheeks. "Well, I was naked when I woke up…"

Rukia instinctively scooted backwards, embarrassment heating her stomach and face. "That's not the detail I meant," she protested angrily, staring at the floor.

"Well**,** you should have specified!" Ichigo objected, turning towards Rukia in a flurry of self-consciousness and wounded pride.

Rukia watched him carefully, surprised at the sudden giggles that threatened to spill from her chest. Managing to remain stoic, she assumed a more formal position on the couch, sliding her legs from under her bottom and letting them dangle over the edge. "What about everything before you woke up as an Espada? Surely you didn't just leave us and then immediately wake up as part of Aizen's army?"

Ichigo shrugged, amber eyes darkening. "I told you all I remember," he muttered. "And what's this about 'us'?"

Rukia took a double take, eyebrows knitting together and violet eyes widening. "Me, Renji, Nii-sama, everybody else…Ichigo, we had no idea what happened to you."

"I have no idea who you're even talking about!" Ichigo said in exasperation, frowning. "I barely know who you are, and you expect me to know who you're talking about with just **'**everybody else**'**?"

"What do you mean you barely know who I am?" Rukia shouted. "Ichigo, I used to sleep in your closet!"

Ichigo turned towards Rukia in surprise, staring at her with a mixture of caution and fear. His expression said that he thought she was insane. "In my…closet?" he repeated Rukia's words, only with three times the doubt and infinitely more alarm.

Rukia scowled, rebuking herself for using that phrase to attempt to jog Ichigo's memory. Trying to ignore her blunder, Rukia plowed on, tucking a strand of inky black hair behind her ear. "You know who I am, don't you, Ichigo?" **s**he asked in a considerably less harsh tone than before.

Ichigo rolled his eyes irritably, casting his gaze up towards the ceiling. "Yeah, yeah. You're Rukia "Raven" Kuchiki, Shinigami, Female, 4'8 ½, 73 pounds. Your Zanpakuto is Sode no Shirayuki." He rattled off the facts like he was reciting from a textbook, without familiarity or emotion.

Rukia flinched. That wasn't what she was looking for. She wanted to hear Ichigo talk about how they met, or how she was such a pesky midget, or how he had to risk his life just to tramp through Soul Society and save her. She didn't want to hear unbiased stats that Ichigo most likely recalled from the screen at the Shinigami fights. That didn't help anything. In fact, it only proved that Ichigo really _didn't_ remember…

"What about Yuzu and Karin?" Rukia asked Ichigo, trying another tactic. Even if Ichigo didn't remember Rukia or anybody from Soul Society, he still seemed to have the same fondness for his sisters as he did before any of this mess had happened. Maybe forcing him to think through how Yuzu and Karin came to Hueco Mundo would jump-start his brain.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "What about them?" he asked, stiffening a bit.

A tiny shot of hope went through Rukia. Even just mentioning their names, Ichigo immediately became just as defensive as he had been when he was human. _Er, mostly human_, Rukia corrected herself with a wry smile.

"How did they get here?" Rukia's voice and face sparked with determination. She just had to keep questioning him, making him remember.

Ichigo frowned in confusion, taken aback by the question. "Well," he started, sounding very unsure of himself. "They were just here," he said, stumbling over his own words as he glanced around the room for help.

Rukia scoffed. "They just got here? That's really what you believe?" Ichigo bristled and angrily opened his mouth to reply, but Rukia kept pushing him, asking question after question. "Do you really think this is the best place for them to be? What about all the Hollows crawling around here? What if one of them hurt Yu—"

"They won't!" Ichigo interrupted Rukia with a strained shout, and Rukia fell backwards as Ichigo vehemently jumped up from the edge of the couch, turning to glare at Rukia. "I won't let that happen!" he yelled, something wild and desperate flashing in his tawny eyes before they dulled again. "I won't let it happen," he repeated, mumbling.

Rukia remained still for a moment, debating whether pushing him more would help or just alienate him from her. After a moment's consideration, taking into account the fact that her rapid-fire questions hadn't seemed to have really helped at all, she sighed in surrender. "I know," she said quietly, not noticing Ichigo's surprised glance at her.

Nodding sharply a couple times, Ichigo walked across the room, opening a door and pulling a bundle of white out of an apparent closet. Without looking, he tossed it towards Rukia, who caught it rather ungracefully with a bunch of sputters and blinks. Rukia huffed indignantly, slowly unwrapping the bundle of white.

"You probably shouldn't go walking around without any clothes on," Ichigo muttered before stalking out the door. His echoing footsteps could be heard for a while until they, too, disappeared. Rukia glanced down at her chest, almost shocked when her body reminded her that the only thing separating her breasts and the air was the bandages wrapped around them. Blushing, Rukia hugged the bundle of white—which appeared to be some form of clothing—to her chest.

Eyes cast down, her fingers fumbled with the cloth, searching for an opening through which to slip her body. Finding it, Rukia slipped the garment over her neck, moving to pull it down over the rest of her body when another force hit her, wrapping around her stomach. Disoriented and confused for what felt like the umpteenth time that hour, Rukia shouted in alarm, hastily pulling the white attire down over her stomach so she could see what had attacked her.

Yuzu's brown eyes appeared in front of Rukia, paired with a sort of relieved smile. Subconsciously, Rukia wondered what the relief was for. Relief that Rukia hadn't been harmed, or something else?

"Er, Yuzu?" Rukia's hands wavered in front of the small girl, unsure of where to be.

Yuzu solved the problem by sliding off of Rukia and taking a seat on the couch next to the raven-haired Shinigami. "Do you feel alright, Rukia-chan?"

Rukia nodded, sensing a strange reluctance from Yuzu. The blonde girl fiddled with her hands, pulling on her fingers and the cuffs of her sleeves. After maintaining a strict silence for a few minutes, she suddenly opened her mouth. "Where is everyone else, Rukia-chan?" she blurted out, staring up at Rukia with wide, innocent eyes.

"Everyone else?" Rukia asked. She tried not to let any guilt pass through her voice as she attempted to avoid the question. "Like who, Yuzu?"

"Er," Yuzu stumbled, swinging her legs back and forth. "Never mind, I guess you don't know either, huh?"

Lips stretched in a thin line, Rukia berated herself for not answering Yuzu's question. Why didn't she just say that she didn't know?

"Rukia-chan, I don't mean to be mean," Yuzu said, "but when's the last time you've had a bath?"

Rukia blinked, trying to remember. Certainly not recently. Laughing awkwardly, Rukia answered Yuzu. "I honestly can't remember."

Yuzu brightened. "We should take one together, then!" she cheered, smiling at Rukia eagerly.

Rukia blushed, taken aback. "Together?" she asked.

Yuzu nodded emphatically, not the least bit deterred by Rukia's hesitation. "I used to take baths with Onii-chan a long time ago, but he didn't want to after he started high school." The slightest hint of a pout appeared in Yuzu's expression.

Rukia smothered a snort of laughter. _All the way up to high school?_ **s**he thought with amusement.

"But now I can take one with you! It'll be fun!" Yuzu stared up at Rukia honestly.

"I don't know, Yuzu," Rukia hesitantly protested. "I haven't taken a bath in a long time, so I'm very dirty. I don't think it'd be very pleasant for you to bathe with me." Yuzu's bright demeanor visibly dimmed. Guilt washed over Rukia, and she struggled to find some way to cheer Ichigo's little sister up. "Well, maybe after I get clean we can take one together, just for fun."

"Yes!" Yuzu grinned, and Rukia felt a bit better, even if she was somewhat tentative about being naked in front of the small girl. Still, it might be a little enjoyable. Yuzu was so kind that the situation didn't have to be too awkward.

"Alright," Rukia conceded, standing up from the couch. "Let me get clean first, and then I suppose you can join me with a fresh bath."

Yuzu nodded eagerly. "You can just leave your clothes outside the door, and I can wash them while you're in the bath," she suggested.

"That's very generous," Rukia said, "but I just received them a few minutes ago. There's no need to wash them."

"Oh?" Yuzu tilted her head slightly in confusion before a knowing smile spread across her face. "Did Onii-chan give them to you?" she asked, her expression suggesting that she already knew the answer.

"Yes," Rukia confirmed.

"So that's why he left so suddenly," Yuzu mused to herself quietly, a look of deep concentration playing across her face as her brow furrowed.

"What?" Rukia asked, slightly alarmed. Even though the floor was cold under her bare feet, and she was eager to scrub the dirt, blood, and other muck off, Yuzu's statement was just suspicious enough that she would wait.

"Nothing," Yuzu said brightly, only increasing Rukia's suspicion.

Rukia started to protest, but Yuzu jumped from the couch, sliding the white clothes off the surprised Shinigami. Rukia shouted in protest, but Ichigo's little sister ignored her, instead pushing her gently towards the bathroom. "First door on the left," she called to Rukia, who was now scuttling down the hallway, covering her bandage-wrapped chest with her arms, desperately hoping nobody else was in this part of Las Noches. Rukia found the bathroom, and her hands immediately flew for the door handle, shaking from the cold and anxiety as she clumsily forced the door open. "Don't forget to tell me when you're clean!" Yuzu's small voice echoed down the hall before Rukia shut the door and locked it with a click.

Ichigo marched down the hall, hands in his pockets and face tucked into the high collar of his jacket. His amber eyes were unfocused as he glared at the floor, mind wandering to the room he had left, to Rukia. It seemed she was all he could think about these days.

It was frustrating. On one level, he was certain that he had never seen her before that night when he had saved her from death. But thinking deeper, he felt much too comfortable around her for that night to have really been their first meeting. The determined light in her violet eyes was a familiar sight, but at the same time it was new.

It confused him. So he fell back, putting up a shield between them. Amnesia was a good cover; after all, it was partially true. Even if her movements were familiar and predictable to him, he still didn't remember why they were so predictable. Even if her light, floral scent wasn't new, he didn't know why or where he had been exposed to it before. Obviously he had, but he just had no clue how. Putting up a wall around Rukia was easier than trying to take the time to sift through everything. He'd rather stick with what he didn't know than try and recall everything.

Of course, he hadn't decided that right away. Originally, part of the reason he had saved Rukia was so she could help him figure out what exactly was going on with his head. But once she had started mentioning others, and the possibility of him disappointing more than just her, he had changed his mind.

No, that wasn't quite right. He hadn't just changed his mind because it was simpler. He had changed his mind because he had gotten scared. What if there really was something deeper here? What if he had really let people down? The way Rukia had been talking, with that Renji guy, whoever 'Nii-sama' was, and everybody else, she made it sound like he had deserted _a lot_ of people.

And Ichigo couldn't even stand the thought of that.

-o-o-o-

_Scrub-a-dub-dub next chapter..._

_I adore Yuzu. Does it show?_

_Thanks to **Scaehime-KingofKing's Daughter** for beta-reading! :D_

_Reviews always appreciated. :)_

_Bleach (c) Tite Kubo_


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, guys, er, sorry 'bout the long wait for this one..Next chapter will be quicker! /nice guy pose/ That's a promise!**

**Hope you enjoy~**

**Soapy Determination: **Please Don't Fight It.

Rukia gently swirled the soapy, bubbly bath water with the tip of her finger. It was warm and soothing. Her head rested on the edge of the tub, and the cool glass felt nice on her neck. Yuzu, once Rukia had hesitantly called her in, had scraped Rukia's hair back into a sort of bun, tying it with a skinny black ribbon she had found lying around. Yuzu herself had come in sporting her usual blonde pigtails, carrying an armful of fluffy towels and assorted bath products.

Rukia hadn't expected the young girl to be so enthusiastic about bathing. But she had to admit, her body appreciated the pampering. The painful cramps in her legs had washed away with the warm bath water, replaced by a clean calmness. Even the cut across her torso was starting to lose its acidic sting. Exhaling softly, Rukia sank a little deeper into the silky water, immersing herself up to her lower lips. Laughing a little, she blew raspberries on the surface of the water, rippling it.

Yuzu's eyes lit up, and she joined Rukia, giggling as they both turned the bathtub into a hot-tub. After a bit, Rukia stopped as the soap taste covered her tongue. It was bitter and harsh. Seeing Rukia had stopped, Yuzu stopped as well, feeling awkward as she behaved childish by herself.

"Rukia-chan, can I wash your hair?"

Rukia blinked at the request. Her hair was nothing special. In fact, even though she had managed to comb out most of the big knots with her fingers, Rukia's hair was still far from the state it had been. Besides, it was too short for Yuzu to really style it. The small girl would have more fun playing with Inoue's hair.

Still, if Yuzu wanted to wash her hair, Rukia wasn't going to deny the request. "Sure," she replied, turning around in the tub so Yuzu could more easily reach her raven locks. As she seemed to do almost full-time, Yuzu smiled brightly, her nimble fingers already sliding through Rukia's damp hair, catching slightly at a tangle before skillfully undoing the knot faster than Rukia would've thought possible. Yuzu hummed as she worked, sweet little melodies that seemed as if they could be paired with nursery rhymes.

"Yuzu," Rukia said quietly, eyes lazily roaming over the bathroom as Yuzu tugged gently on her hair.

"Hmm, Rukia-chan?"

"Do you…could you, maybe, sing?"

Yuzu paused at the request, her fingers falling from Rukia's hair and her humming briefly suspended. "Sing?" the small girl repeated.

"Yes," Rukia responded, her voice wavering slightly as she began to lose her nerve. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she said quickly.

"No, it'll be fun!" Yuzu said cheerily, fingers once again combing through Rukia's hair.

Rukia smiled slightly, closing her eyes as Yuzu started singing. Her voice was small and high-pitched, and occasionally it would break slightly, but it was still a pleasant voice. Rukia felt a small jolt of surprise as she recognized the song Yuzu sang, but she let it go and allowed both Yuzu's song and the memories it brought wash over her.

_"Why do you possess a guitar if you never actually use it?"_

_ Rukia sat cross-legged in her closet, hands resting on her ankles as she leaned forward, not so patiently waiting for Ichigo's response. Ichigo, sitting at his desk, looked up at her from his homework, dropping the pencil he had been twirling between his fingers._

_ "What?" he asked, blinking._

_ Rukia sighed, eyebrows upturned. "The guitar," she said, pointing to the object which rested in a lonely corner of the room. "Why do you own it if you never play?"_

_ Ichigo glanced over at the guitar, as if he had forgotten it was even there. "Oh," he said flatly, still staring at the instrument. "I don't know," he shrugged noncommittally. "I used to play it more, I guess, but ever since I became a Shinigami, I haven't had much time between Hollows and school work."_

_ Rukia felt a small twinge of sadness that she had been the cause of his abstinence from the instrument. "You mean ever since I showed up," she murmured._

_ Ichigo looked at her, surprised. "Well, I guess," he said uncertainly, confused by Rukia's guilty tone. "Look, Rukia, it's not that big of a deal, really," he said, watching her. "I wasn't a huge musical guy before you came, anyways."_

_ "Still," Rukia persisted, not quite sure herself why she felt so strongly over this. "You would've kept playing it had I not shown up, right?"_

_ "I dunno, maybe," Ichigo admitted, feeling like he had spoken himself into a trap. _

_ "I see," Rukia said, leaning back in her closet._

_ "Why does it matter?" Ichigo asked, unable to return to his homework._

_ "I'm not sure," Rukia replied in a conversational tone. Why did it matter? Maybe it was because the guitar was a physical representation of what Rukia had taken away from Ichigo when she had shown up. It was silly of her to get so hung up over one musical instrument, but Rukia couldn't push away the idea that it represented something more. _

_ Rukia looked up in surprise as Ichigo pushed away from the desk with his hands, the chair rolling across the floor. "What are you doing?" she asked, perhaps a little harsher than necessary. _

_ "If you'd wait one minute, you'd see," Ichigo fired back crossly, that stubborn tone entering his voice, the same tone that he used whenever he was about to do something nice, and was embarrassed about it. He crossed his room in three strides, hesitating a bit as he stood before the corner-assigned instrument before picking it up gently and returning to his bed. Flopping down on his bed, Ichigo glanced down at the guitar, assigning his fingers to the right positions before strumming a sloppy chord._

_ He glanced up at Rukia, grinning like a fool. She closed her eyes, shaking her head with disbelief, but couldn't help the small smile that came to her lips. Nimbly, she slipped out of the closet, taking a seat on the chair that Ichigo had deserted, letting her feet dangle above the floor._

_ Ichigo, now blushing a bit, buried his eyes in the guitar, exuding a strange shyness that Rukia couldn't recall seeing about him before. At first, his fingers were clumsy, slipping from the strings at odd moments and striking odd notes, but as he continued, his fingers became used to the instrument, muscle memory helping. Rukia's smile widened a bit; even though Ichigo had insisted he hadn't been a "huge musical guy" before she had shown up, it was obvious that he had put some effort into learning the instrument._

_ Rukia was just starting to enjoy the guitar's slightly off-key tune when Ichigo abruptly stopped, picking the guitar off his lap and setting it down on the bed next to him. Rukia stared at him, wondering if she had done something to cause him to stop. _

_ "See, I told you I wasn't really that good," Ichigo said, scratching the back of his neck and staring up at the ceiling stubbornly as heat rose to his cheeks._

_ "No," Rukia protested, "that's not what you said. You said you weren't a huge musical guy; you never said that you weren't good." Ichigo's gaze dropped down to her, amber eyes wide. "And even if you had said that," Rukia continued, "it wouldn't be true."_

_ A small smile crept across Ichigo's lips as he stared at the floor. It stayed for only a moment, only to be replaced by his usual fierce scowl. Rukia held back a laugh. Right now, Ichigo seemed incredibly…soft; it was a word she never would've thought she'd use to describe the obstinate boy._

_ Awkwardness threatened the silence that had fallen between them, so Rukia spoke up, slightly too eager. "Would you play some more?" she asked quickly._

_ Ichigo's arms reached across his body and his hands wrapped around the neck of the guitar, pulling it back into his lap with a small shake of the head. He took a quick small breath before granting Rukia's request._

…

"There!" Yuzu announced with satisfaction, releasing Rukia's hair. Rukia glanced over her shoulder at the large mirror that hung, facing the tub, and examined Yuzu's work. Raven locks circled her head, woven in plaits of various sizes. Rukia reached up to touch the intricate hairstyle, but her hand was slapped away. "Don't touch it, Rukia-chan!" Yuzu scolded mildly. "You might mess it up!"

Rukia smiled with a small bow of her head. "Thank you, Yuzu." As Rukia stood up, water streamed down her body, falling back into the bathtub with small, musical noises. "It looks beautiful," she tacked on as an afterthought.

"No problem!" Yuzu smiled back, closing her eyes in one of those shyly happy expressions that never quite looked right on Rukia.

The smooth, marble floor was cool on Rukia's feet. Crossing the small distance from the tub to the counter, her fingers trailed across the stone surface as Rukia stared into the mirror. Violet eyes sparked against their reflection, clouded by trouble and determination.

_I will find out what happened…how we all ended up in this situation. I will uncover it…_

_ And uncover you, Ichigo. Everything is still there, I know it. Memories and bonds, like matter, are never created or destroyed. Only recycled and transformed into something new. So, somewhere, our memories and our bonds are trapped, just waiting to resurface._

_ I know it._

…

"So you brought the midget Shinigami back, huh?"

Ichigo's sandals scratched against the white marble floor of the hallway as he turned to face the Sexta Espada. Immediately, his eyes were assaulted by the intense blue of the other's gaze, which was highlighted with dislike. Frowning, Ichigo ignored Grimmjow, turning on his heels and resuming his walk down the hallway, away from the blue-haired Arrancar.

A hand on his shoulder forced Ichigo to stop. Scowling, he knocked Grimmjow's hand away. "Oi! Don't think you can just blow me off, Kurosaki!"

"It's none of your business," Ichigo muttered, still not facing Grimmjow.

"What did you say?" Grimmjow blurted out furiously, taking three quick steps ahead of Ichigo, forcing himself in the Seventh's vision.

"I said," Ichigo yelled, finally looking into Grimmjow's cerulean eyes, "it's none of your damn business!"

Grimmjow recoiled, both from Ichigo's harsh tone, and the callous reiatsu that had started seeping out of the ginger's white robes. Regaining his superior, jaunty smile and posture took only a second, but something heavy and dizzying still lingered in his chest. Ichigo gave the 6th one last petulant glance before striding off, hands shoved in his pockets as his footsteps echoed around the hall. Grimmjow stared after him, blinking once. That feeling…it was like standing an inch away from death. All it had taken was a little reiatsu from an Espada ranked below him, and he had gotten scared?

No, it wasn't right. There was something odd about Kurosaki.

The kid should be ranked higher than 7. So why had Aizen given him such a low number?

...

_So, yup. A little Grimmjow for you..._

_Again, I'm sorry for the delay. Hopefully it won't happen again!_

_Ahh fluffy bathtub scene is fluffy..I had way too much fun writing that.._

_Reviews always appreciated._

_Thanks to Scaehime-KingofKing's Daughter for beta-reading! :D_


	5. Chapter 5

**Deja Vu**: _Another Not-So-F__amiliar Face?_

Grimmjow watched Ichigo leave, eyes widening with anticipation as a sudden thought entered his mind. As the orange-haired idiot rounded a corner without even giving Grimmjow a backward glance, the Sexta Espada put the place where Kurosaki had disappeared behind him, heading instead for the Seventh's chambers. If Kurosaki didn't feel inclined to answer his questions, then Grimmjow would just have to find the answers himself. Maybe that midget Shinigami knew something about Kurosaki's low ranking.

She hadn't been here for very long, _make that __since __yesterday_, Grimmjow corrected himself, but it wasn't like she had just met Kurosaki yesterday. As far as Grimmjow could tell, they had been close when he had shown up in Karakura town a couple years ago, and most likely even before that. So even if the female Shinigami didn't know much about Kurosaki's Espada life, she knew about Kurosaki. And that was more than Grimmjow knew.

"Heh, I wouldn't be surprised if Kurosaki spilled everything to her," Grimmjow grinned to himself as he pushed open the door of the Seventh's private room. Surprisingly, it was emptier than Grimmjow had anticipated. Almost as empty as Grimmjow's own chambers. He hadn't seen the need to clutter up his space with stuff, but he figured that a guy like Kurosaki would be more of a material person. At the very least, he had expected the guy to have a few pictures, letters, something.

Although, really, it made sense the place was empty. Why would Kurosaki have anything from his human life if he didn't remember it? To Kurosaki, he had never been human. Well, at least not until yesterday…who knew what that Shinigami brat had blurted out?

Blue eyes scanned the room restlessly before Grimmjow stepped inside, pushing the door closed behind him. The first thing to really catch his eye was the wall of windows on the right side of the room. Crossing the room, he let his fingers trail along the arm of the couch. Standing in front of the windows for a second, he closed his eyes and exhaled irritably. So far he'd learned exactly nothing new about Kurosaki. "Don't know what I was even expecting to find in here," he muttered as he fell backwards on the couch.

And on top of one previously sleeping Rukia Kuchiki. Violet eyes flying wide open, she flailed, inadvertently kicking Grimmjow in the back of the head. The blue-haired Espada yelled as he jumped up, sourly rubbing the back of his head. Rukia, now tangled in a mess of blankets, tried to free herself, but only succeeded in falling off the couch. Both nursed their recent injuries before realizing that they had each come in contact with the other.

"Oi! What are you doing in here?" Rukia demanded from the floor, pointing an accusing finger at for the other's response, Rukia's violet eyes briefly flitted towards the hallway leading to the twins' room, hoping they stayed where they were, napping.

His blue eyes widened momentarily before narrowing dangerously. Alarm soared through Rukia for a second. Had he noticed her glance behind her? Would he go looking, and stumble on the twins? "I could ask you the same question, Shinigami. Why did Kurosaki bring you _here?_" Grimmjow grinned, adding certain connotations to the question.

Rukia mentally sighed in relief, and let herself fall into the conversation, using it as a way to keep the intruder busy, and away from the twins. Angrily, she opened her mouth to yell at him for not answering her question. "Hey—" it was only then that she realized what Grimmjow had been skirting around. Her face flushed deep crimson, and she glared at the floor, the twins almost forgotten in her embarrassment. "It's nothing like…like _that_!"

Grimmjow continued to grin. "S'alright if it is," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and standing casually, fully enjoying Rukia's mortification. "I'm not one ta judge."

"Tch." Rukia crossed her arms, staring out the large windows in order to avoid having to look the Espada in the eye. "You still haven't answered my question," she said sullenly.

"And neither have you."

Rukia gritted her teeth, but didn't give any other acknowledgement that she had heard Grimmjow. Grimmjow watched with interest as she fidgeted again, jerking her head violently and uttering a quiet, but long string of curse words.

_Dammit_. Rukia glared out the window. This blue-haired idiot was making her look like some flustered school girl. Rukia didn't want to play the part of the thick-skinned, but defenseless damsel, but right now she couldn't think of any other way to avoid Grimmjow's questions. The way he talked irritated her to no end. And the audacity**, **to suggest that Ichigo had saved her just to…just to…Rukia broke off, unable to finish the thought even in her own mind.

"What were you doing on the couch, Shinigami?"

"What are you doing _here_?" Rukia fired back, acid coating her voice.

Grimmjow exhaled irritably, and Rukia turned around and faced him just in time to see him make himself at home on Ichigo's couch, rolling his eyes. "Fine, if you're so obsessed on that question, I'll answer it. Part of it involves you, anyway."

Rukia blinked in surprise, but didn't say anything. Grimmjow smiled humorlessly. "I wanna know why Kurosaki's got such a low rank."

"Low rank?" Rukia was reminded of Ichigo's not-so-explanatory explanation, where he had basically told her that Aizen had made him Espada and then given him the number seven. "Why does that matter?"

Grimmjow lay on his back, blankly staring at the ceiling. "Cuz the bastard's got enough reiatsu that he should have a higher number than me." Rukia was surprised at the passionate hatred that seeped into the blue-haired Arrancar's tone. "Hell," Grimmjow snorted, "he might even be more powerful than Ulquiorra."

"Ulquiorra?" Rukia repeated the name tonelessly.

"Don't worry 'bout him," Grimmjow snapped, turning towards Rukia and fixing those intense blue eyes on her. "I want you to tell me all you know about Kurosaki."

…

Ichigo shoved his way to the front of the crowd, ignoring the hisses and growls he received. He was in the mood to watch a fight, and he wasn't going to watch it from behind some unranked Hollow's head. Ichigo grimaced as his hand brushed against the rather slimy skin of one reptilian Hollow. The Hollow hissed, its ugly snout practically in Ichigo's ear. Not in a good mood to begin with, the 7th Espada swiftly hardened the reiatsu around his right fist before striking the reptilian Hollow. The initial contact broke the Hollow's jaw, but what elicited the blood-curdling screams was the corrosive tinge to the reiatsu that ate through the scaled skin like a chemical burn.

Ignoring the Hollow's dying screeches, Ichigo sidled through the crowd, finally reaching the ring. A swift glance at the overhead screen that flashed the two participants' stats and odds in red told Ichigo that it was going to be a good fight. Vicious, violent, and dirty. Maybe this time he could actually enjoy it, instead of getting himself caught up in another mess.

As a snaking tendril of reiatsu floated through the air in front of him, Ichigo looked over his shoulder at the betting table, half-inclined to place a bet. He glanced up at the screen again. Both fighters were male, and of about the same height and weight. Neither of them seemed obviously stronger, but there was a certain deadness in the red-haired's eyes that suggested he wasn't going to come out of the ring alive.

Ichigo snorted as his brown eyes flickered to the screen once again. That spiky red hair looked just like a pineapple…

**Abarai Renji**

The glowing red name leaped from the screen, flashing behind Ichigo's eyes. His head protested as images and memories were dredged up from their grave.

Old memories.

_Wielding a nameless Zanpakuto against a skilled, experienced opponent... "Howl, Zabimaru." The Zanpakuto of Abarai Renji cuts through his shoulder, slices through skin and severs muscle…unconsciously dropping his sword, the one defense he has…pain, hot, red, intense pain…an empty feeling in the pit of the stomach…death is near, this is the end…_

_The second round of the heated fight…knowing the advantage is on your side…the setting sun licks at the ground, his red hair, their blades, leaving it yellow and orange…pain, again, but not as bad as the first time…it's bearable…victory seems hollow…_

And new memories.

_Sitting in a dark, damp, dirty cell…company was the only solitude…a small raven haired woman…a shinigami with red hair almost as hot as his temper…a silent, stoic captain clutching the last remnants of his pride…the mutual fear of being chosen…but his anticipation was almost as strong as his fear…at least if he was called for a fight, he would get out of the dark…_

_"Kurosaki Ichigo!" That was his name…the cell door opening with a rusty creak…rough, brutal hands grabbing, pushing him out…knees protesting as they hit the grimy, stone floor…a slim, sleek, familiar metal object being thrown to him…the comforting weight of Tensa Zangetsu in his hands…sword…he has his sword back…joy…_

_Shock…cool metal ripping through his stomach, spilling red hot blood…pain…anger…red, sticky, hot…dripping to the floor, slipping through his hands…that voice nagging at the back of his head…not this time, not ever…he's not going to lose...it's the first time in six months that he's been able to hold Zangetsu and he's not going to lose…not…going…to…lose_

Reality snapped back in place as quick as it had disappeared, and Ichigo was left panting in the wake of the recently reclaimed memories. His amber eyes wheeled around the cold, crowded building before locking in on the red-haired shinigami. _Renji_, Ichigo thought, glancing up at the stats board once again. Still not quite in it, Ichigo watched dumbly as Renji staggered, falling to his knees, propping himself up with his sword.

The 7th Espada was briefly reminded of Rukia. Both Shinigami wore similar expressions while in pain—even though they both looked tired and defeated, there was still a glimmer of determination and strength in their eyes. Sighing, Ichigo prepared to interrupt the fight. Remembering last time, he slipped out of his coat; the blood still hadn't quite washed away from when he had rescued Rukia.

As Renji's opponent reluctantly raised his Zanpakuto with relief, the distorted sound of Sonido echoed sharply off the walls. Disarming the almost-victorious Shinigami with a flick of his wrist, Ichigo closed his eyes in resignation. There was no way Aizen was going to let this one go unpunished.

...

_Thanks to Scaehime-KingofKing's Daughter for beta-reading! :)_

_If you guys are looking for something to read in-between updates of this story (hee hee XD), you should check_

_out her story "Bridge the Gap, Kyoukan!" It's really interesting, and there are some great interactions not only between_

_the canon characters, but between the Bleach characters and her OC, Jesa. _

_I hope this update was faster...I think it was a liiiiittle faster._

_As always, reviews are appreciated. :)_

_Bleach (c) Tite Kubo_


	6. Chapter 6

**Ghosts of the Past:** Only A Reflection

Grimmjow released Rukia as his astonishingly blue eyes flashed to the door. Muffled footsteps sounded outside. They were unusually slow, as if weighed down by something extremely heavy. Rukia looked up at Grimmjow from the floor, trembling slightly with rage.

"You should leave," she said firmly, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

The blue-haired Arrancar glanced down at Rukia, murder in his eyes, but the urgent matter of the ever-closer footsteps won out over his desire to beat Rukia until she was nothing more than a hole in the ground. "Good thing there's another door, huh, Shinigami?" he leered, turning to go.

Rukia watched him with level, hate-filled eyes.

"Oh, and don't worry." Grimmjow paused at the door. "I'll come back when Kurosaki is gone, and then you can blubber all you want." He barely managed to slip through the door, disappearing into the shadows, before Ichigo tumbled into the room, carrying someone on his back.

Rukia's attention snapped to Ichigo, and she tried to forget the Arrancar's violent grin. "Ichigo? Wha-?"

Ichigo groaned, letting the figure draped over his back fall to the ground. Crimson hair spilled over the floor, covering its owner's face. Rukia looked down at the figure, then up at Ichigo. "Renji?" she asked incredulously.

Ichigo nodded, grimacing as he rolled his shoulder. "Don't know anyone else who'd be so damn heavy," he muttered. Rukia watched him cross the room and stand by the couch. Despite being at least fifteen feet away, he exuded a nervous aura that gave Rukia the impression he was hovering over her. This was something new.

Rukia ignored it, choosing instead to try and assess Renji's injuries, which, while severe, didn't seem to be life-threatening. A cut on the forehead, slash across the forearm, bruises on his chest—it was nothing that time and kido couldn't heal.

Rukia glanced back at Ichigo. "He's unconscious," Ichigo said, closing his eyes and tilting his chin up slightly in a way that reminded Rukia painfully of when she had just met him. "But he seemed alright to me."

Rukia nodded. "I should be able to heal most of his injuries, and the rest will heal with time." She paused for a moment, trying to find a way to thank Ichigo without making the situation awkward, but he had already collapsed on the couch. Rukia stared, smirking slightly. Even if he was an Espada, he still looked ridiculous with his long legs dangling off the edge of the couch. Tilting her head a bit, Rukia looked a little more critically. Had Ichigo always been that tall? Of course he had always been at least a head and a half above her, but he seemed…longer than before.

Maybe the changes weren't limited to the inside.

Sighing, Rukia turned to Renji, feeling strangely sentimental as she began to heal his wounds.

…

"Dammit, that hurts, Rukia!"

"Keep still, you idiot! I can't heal you if you're thrashing all over the place!"

Rukia and Renji's voices echoed throughout the spacious marble room, only adding pressure to the ache inside Ichigo's skull. Even though Renji had only gained consciousness twenty minutes before, he was louder than ever. Closing his eyes and restraining his tongue, Ichigo covered his head with his arms in an attempt to drown out their bickering. "Don't know why I even saved them in the first place," he muttered to himself.

"Renji!" Rukia's exasperated voice managed to reach Ichigo's ears, even with his impromptu earplugs. The Espada twitched, shifting his position so he could cover one ear with the edge of the couch, and the other with both of his hands.

"Oi, Rukia, stop screaming! Who knows who'll hear?" Even Ichigo's new position didn't block the sound of Renji loudly chastising Rukia, rather ironically. Rolling off the couch and standing up in one fluid motion, Ichigo turned on them both. Opening his mouth to holler at them both, he paused at the site of their shocked faces. He stared angrily at them for a minute, before rolling his eyes and stalking out of the room with a grumbled, "you look like guilty preschoolers."

Rukia turned to Renji, and they stared at each other with concerned, albeit still guilty expressions. Hastily standing up, Rukia ignored Renji's howl of pain as she accidentally yanked on the bandage she had been wrapping around his wrist. "Hey, Ichigo! Where are you going?"

Keeping his back towards her, he only paused for a moment. His answer was a dismissive wave of the hand, coupled with what Rukia suspected to be another eye roll, although it was hard to tell when all she could see was the back of Ichigo's head. "That's not an answer, fool," she muttered, more to Renji and herself than anyone else.

With the absence of Ichigo, Renji turned to Rukia, his demeanor serious. "Don't you think what Ichigo's doing is a little strange?" he asked her, his brown eyes trained on Rukia's hands as they steadily wrapped the medical gauze around his wrist with the effortless ease of someone who has had much practice tending to injuries.

"Walking away without telling us where he's going? Ichigo does that all the time. Even before…before this." Rukia's reply started casual, but ended forced, skirting around things she didn't care to discuss.

"That's not what I'm talking about, Rukia." Renji pulled his hand away. Rukia made a small noise of protest; she hadn't finished. Renji smoothly ignored her. "I'm talking about the way he supposedly can't remember practically anything about his past, including us, and yet he risks his life to save us when he could just as easily let us die. Are you sure he can't remember? What if he's just fa—"

"Faking it?" Rukia interrupted, her tone steely cold as she stared down at the ground with equally frosty eyes. "Why would he do that, Renji? He's got no reason to."

Renji hesitated for a moment. He had been hoping he could discuss his fear with Rukia without her letting her emotions get the best of her, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen. Renji ignored his treacherous thoughts, which were something along the lines of it's always like this with Ichigo, instead trying to find a way to put his doubts into words that Rukia wouldn't recoil at. Taking a deep breath, he decided to risk it all.

"What if it's not really Ichigo?"

Rukia jerked a bit, a small spastic movement that was barely perceptible. Tense silence sparked between them for a minute while Renji waited with bated breath to see whether his gamble had ruined it all.

Rukia's shoulders shook, only slightly at first, but then the shaking became obvious, almost violent. It took Renji a moment to realize that she was laughing.

"Not Ichigo?" Rukia asked incredibly, her violet eyes flashing with false humor. She smiled, playing at lightheartedness. "Who is it, then? Chappy?"

Renji sighed, then joined in the game. Forcing a smile, he chuckled for Rukia, laughing at the joke that wasn't really a joke. "Yeah, you're right, I'm being stupid."

Rukia snorted, reaching over to finish tending to Renji's injuries. The smile immediately slipped off her face as her raven hair concealed her violet eyes. She might be able to outwardly ridicule Renji's suspicion, but inside, she couldn't help but share it.

And Renji knew it.

…

The dark room did nothing to help his mood. The entire hallway radiated with a gloomy, oppressive atmosphere. Not that he minded it. Actually, the shadows were the reasons he had retreated to this place. It wasn't quite a room, but not quite a hallway either. Perhaps it had been a closet. Why Las Noches would need a closet, Ichigo didn't know, but it made some sense.

There were four walls, white and cold like the rest of the building. On the fourth wall, farthest from the door, hung a large sheet of glass. Ichigo would have viewed it as a mirror, if it actually showed him his reflection. It didn't. Instead, it showed him things he didn't remember. Somehow, that was the appeal of the entire room. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he couldn't remember, and he wanted to remember, or that he didn't remember, and was content to let it stay that way, just playing at the idea of recalling the past.

Looking in the mirror, a fragment of the past looked back at him. Nothing more than, yet nothing less than, himself.

Emotionless amber eyes, ringed by dark purple shadows, stared at him, their carefully neutral gaze never ceasing. Creamy pale skin was stretched tightly over an already thin face. A recent scar blazed bright pink against the insipid background of his nose, slightly puffy from some scuffle or another. The black shihakusho that the other him wore was barely distinguishable from the murky shadows that embraced the other him, the Kurosaki Ichigo that watched him wordlessly, silently accusing him.

He never spoke, but Ichigo knew what he would say.

_Your fault…If you hadn't messed up, they would all still be alive. Nobody would be in this mess…_

_What the hell are you doing? Dressed like one of Aizen's soldiers, mindlessly taking orders from the man that single-handedly destroyed Soul Society… _

_You're no better than him…a cowardly traitor…_

Everything about this other him, the Ichigo that he had left behind when he had slipped into the white uniform of the seventh Espada, was dark and brooding and everything he wished he could forget. Everything else had left him. But this damn reflection had to haunt him like a ghost, as if its only reason for existing was to drive him insane, constantly and incessantly reminding him of all the ways he fell short of the person he used to be.

Even now, staring into the sheet of glass that was and wasn't a mirror, the other Kurosaki Ichigo stared dully at him, his face entirely devoid of emotion except for that one eyebrow. Every single feature—the straight, bruised nose, thin lips, sunken cheekbones, and tawny eyes—was blank, except for that one right eyebrow which was slightly more arched than the other one.

_Don't believe me?_ It said, subtly mocking, taunting him. _You know I'm right._

Ichigo turned away from the mirror, unwilling to dwell in the past for any longer. He took long, measured strides away from the other Kurosaki Ichigo, away from the one part of him that couldn't let go of the idea of being a Shinigami, of working for the good guys.

"That's not who I am," he spoke aloud, as if he could convince the other him, and by doing so, convince himself.

_But it's who you should be._

Cold hands wrapped around his throat. His eyes widened in shock, and he opened his mouth to yell, to scream, but a quick hand covered his mouth, smothering the sound. He was being dragged back, back to the other him, back to the place he had forgotten, back to the past. Black nails scratched his face in their quest to haul him back to the other Ichigo. Blood beaded from the fresh cuts, staining his cheeks.

It was over. All this time, he had thought he could leave the other him behind. View him every now and then out of curiosity, like one stares at a caged animal. He was in the sheet of glass, and would remain in the sheet of glass.

He wasn't supposed to be physical. He wasn't supposed to be able to force him to stay. He wasn't supposed to be real. He was only supposed to be in his head. It was all supposed to be in his head.

A chillingly familiar voice laughed, drawing Ichigo's attention into his blue surroundings, his own inner world that seemed to be nothing more than a series of reflections.

"Oh, Ichigo. You should know by now that the things in your head are most definitely real."

_Bleach (c) Tite Kubo_

_Thanks to Scaehime-KingofKing's Daughter for beta-reading! :D_

_Hope you guys enjoy; sorry it's kind of short! _

_Reviews are always treasured appreciated. _


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